Search and Rescue
by gnarled
Summary: Re-post. Ca. 6 months after GOW2, Marcus and Dom are sent out on reconnaissance. But what happens when the locust mortar the new COG base of operations, with a certain Lieutenant in the crossfire? M for language and mature themes. Marcus/Anya
1. Chapter 1

NOTICE: I will no longer be updating this story. It will stay as-is, I am sorry to those who were expecting more. :/

--Meggie

* * *

"Where the fuck do they all come from? Shit!"

Anya glared intently at her display screen, cuss words from Dom pouring into her ears like a waterfall. The digital layout of Delta's position, as provided by the JACKbot, did not look too appetizing. There were small blue dots -- Marcus and Dom -- and a whole shitload of red ones, Locust, pouring out of at least three emergence holes which were all within a one-hundred yard radius of her comrades. This was going to be tricky.

"Control to Delta, incoming hostiles on all sides, i repeat, all sides!" She spoke loudly into her headset, speaking over the gunfire, trying to figure out how the little red dots kept multiplying.

"Please advise!" Marcus shouted back, almost blowing out her eardrum as he fired off another round. A red dot to his right blinked and faded away. "Now, Anya, we're running out of time!"

She ignored the informality, Marcus often got that way when he was stressed. She, Marcus, and Dom were good war buddies, having fought together in almost every major COG military action since Aspho Fields, way back in the Pendulum wars. The two men, more specifically Marcus, trusted her with their lives on more than enough occasions, and trusted her blindly. Way more than they ever should.

And this was where the shit hit the fan. Faintly, as if from another room, she heard Dom yell "Boomers! Look out!"

She didn't know a way out of this.

"Control is unable to--"

"Nevermind Control," Marcus said. "I got something." He sounded like a man with a plan. Anya wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

She heard a loud explosion, and suddenly about ten of the red dots flickered off screen at once. If someone had been standing near her, they would have been able to see the smoke pouring out of her ears, the sprockets were churning so fast. _How the hell did he do that? _Another explosion. Fifteen grubs this time. _The only thing loud enough and lethal enough is a boomshot... How the hell did he take down a boomer that fast?!_ He never ceased to amaze with his unorthodox methods of fighting. But at least he knew how to survive.

Only three grubs were left now, from what must have been at least thirty. Lancer fire picked off those remaining, she heard Dom's yelp of joy as a locust head exploded. Then it was just two blue dots, in a swath of what would surely be locust blood.

"JACK, Open visual feed with Delta One." Her slender, gloved fingers glanced over certain keys on a vast keyboard that was hodgepodged together and only she knew how to use. She could imagine the bot decloaking and whirring itself down in front of the battleworn soldiers, flipping out it's video screen. There was a slight pause, and suddenly Marcus and Dom's faces flickered on to her display. Marcus was in front. He was always in front.

Both were coated in a fine layer of blood. Obviously they had both made adequate use of the chainsaw bayonet, but the carnage behind them was unbelievable. She was glad that she would never have to actually _see_ Marcus in battle. What she saw might horrify her.

Raising an eyebrow at the Sergeant, she asked a simple question.

"Boomshot?"

"Hell yeah." Dom answered, smirking at Marcus who grinned at her skeptical look.

"What's up Control?" Marcus asked, all business. He was always all business.

"Orders from the top say Delta is to head back to base for briefing on some new intel," She said, pressing some more buttons that would send a Raven to their coordinates, or at least an LZ near there. "Raven is on the way to pick you up. Continue east out the tunnel and it should be waiting for you."

"Wilco, Control. Delta Out." Marcus said, turning away. Dom was already trotting back to pick up some ammo before they moved on.

"Hold on, one more thing--" She said, stopping Marcus mid-step. Not many things could do that. Her eyes widened a little as she read the code feeding from the JACKbot. "Apparently there's a mortar closing in on-- shit-- that's not your position--"

She looked upwards, she had read the screen wrong, reading her own radar instead of Delta's. The faint glow of the missile in the sunset was almost beautiful. It fractured into five or six pieces, continuing to drop steeply. Around her alarms began to go off, officials were leaping into helicopters, someone was tugging her arm-- perhaps it was Marina, Alpha's communicator, but Anya didn't budge. She could only watch as the mortars broke through the skylight ceiling, crashed into the center of COG operations, and exploded.

Marcus glared into JACK's video screen. "Control, what's going on? Control!" It wasn't like Anya to not respond to him.

"Anya!" Marcus yelled. She was just there, her dark eyes filled with something between unshakeable terror and wondrous awe, small strands of platinum blonde dangling down into her face. Then everything exploded, and all Marcus and Dom could do was watch.

"What the fuck is going on?" Dom asked, beside him again, his ammo rounds full, the static that had enveloped the screen dissapating.

"Shit. Nothing good." Marcus said, narrowing his eyes and looking for something telltale besides the faint amount of blood he could see scattered across Anya's keyboard. There were shapes moving in the background rubble, humanoid in shape but not quite in movement.

"Locust." Marcus said, knowing.

"Shit. How the hell did they get to command?" Dom replied, still confused about what had happened.

"Or, where the fuck is Anya." Marcus grumbled, not quite loud enough for anyone on the other side of the screen to hear. He stomped around for a minute, not quite fuming, not quite defeated. "JACK, close it up." And the bot did so, re-cloaking itself in the process. "Dom, let's get out of this damn tunnel and go find that Raven."

And so they did.


	2. Chapter 2

"Anya! Anya!!"

Somewhere, Marcus was shouting her name. No, he wan't shouting, was he? He was just saying it. He was right next to her, right in front of her. Maybe it just sounded loud, she did have a few glasses of wine tonight.

Tonight.

It had started with the awards ceremony. She accepted the Embry Star for her mother, who was killed five weeks ago at Aspho Fields. Marcus and Dom were there, too... accepting for themselves, and for their brother. Yes, _their_ brother. Immediately she noticed the close bond that the Santiagos had with the Fenix heir, and it was almost unnerving how close Marcus was to even the kid brother, Dominic. But Marcus and the older one, Carlos, seemingly inseperable from birth, had served under her mother.

In that stuffy waiting room, they became instant friends. She hoped she would know them for a long, long time.

Then after the ceremony, Professor Adam Fenix, Marcus's dad, had invited all of them back to a fancy dinner at some posh hotel, which was uncomfortable for them all. It was largely quiet, but somehow she managed to down two glasses of wine. She was eighteen, after all.

The Professor broke the silence, speaking to Dom.

"Are you going to loan Carlos's medal to the regimental museum?" He asked, and Anya marvelled how insensitive he could be. Perhaps it was all-logic-and-no-feeling in his holier-than-thou brainstem.

"No, sir." Dom replied. "I gave it to my Mom and Dad. It's rightfully theirs now."

"Anya?" The Professor asked, taking her off guard. She trembled under his pressure for a moment, but she remembered the promise she made to herself, to her mother. She was going to _make something of herself_, and she couldn't do that as the shy little girl she had always been.

"No, sir." She said, firm but still polite. "It's all I have left of her, and I won't let strangers stare at it. I've had enough of public bereavement." Maybe it was just the wine talking, but whatever it was, it was the intellectual slap in the face that Marcus admired. She blushed, but only slightly, as he gave her a slow, sideways glance, the kind no one really notices unless you're looking. But Anya wasn't looking, she just _knew_.

"I understand." The cold reply came from Adam, not Marcus. "My apoligies for being crass."

Jeez, his father was such an ass. She would never tell Marcus that, not in a million years, but the way he said it was so cold and stiff that Anya just felt like dying. Marcus loved his father, she knew that. But how he stood that... that, cold, unfeeling stuff, she would never know.

He offered everyone coffee, but she just wanted to leave. This place with its stuffy waiters and starched tablecloths and fancy doo-dads hanging from the ceiling was above her head. Maybe not way above, but definetly above.

"I think I have to get back," Anya said, desprate to escape. She even tacked some nice, respectful thank-yous on to the end, but the real point was to just _leave_.

On her way out she wobbled a bit on her heels, the things were so damn inconvienient and she was sure it was the wine. Dom called her a cab and was going to see her home, but Maria was there and one thing was for sure -- Dominic Santiago never deserted his wife. So Marcus stepped in, taking her arm in a way-too-formal manner that reminded her he _grew up _in the airs of a place like this. It made her like him no less.

They rode to her Mom's apartment in silence. She had a few things to get together before handing the property over to the COG to be used as who-knew-what.

Which brought her to now.

"Anya." he was saying, "You alright?"

Which, of course, she wasn't. She was stuck looking at a picture of her mom, from back in her heyday, holding a head on a spear with the rest of her company cheering like barbarians behind her. No matter how hard her mom had been on her, Anya knew her mom loved her. Her mom had been _proud of her_ at Aspho. And suddenly the five weeks of cushion between Major Stroud's death and now completely vanished, and the hurt felt as raw as it did when she called her own mother's Tango-four over the tac-com line.

Despite her best efforts, her eyes started to water.

"Anya." He said, and that was all he needed to say, and she found herself turning around into outstretched arms. However surprising a display of affection that was for Marcus, she knew he had a bit more wine in him than she did, which probably blurred his defense mechanisms.

In the softly lit apartment, she stood there in his strong embrace, arms pressed tightly into his chest and just bawling her eyes out like a five year old. It was embarassing, incredibly so, but she knew Marcus wouldn't judge her. His head rested neatly atop hers, and she knew she was probably getting makeup and snot and whatever else into his nice uniform, but he didn't seem to mind. His eyes were closed, just listening to her cry.

Later, she realized she had been crying for him, too. In a way, it was like her expression of grief had said enough that he didn't have that pent-up need anymore. Her release was also his.

Softly, when her big tears had turned back into small sniffles, Marcus spoke. She would never forget what he said, the vibrations in his throat stuck in her mind.

"Anya, as long as you're on my com line, I will not die on you."

It was a little blunt, which was Marcus's style anyway, but her eyes stung again with tears. She backed up from him, wiping away her running makeup and whatever else was on her face. She knew she looked horrible.

"I'm sorry," She sniffed, averting her eyes from him like an ugly heathen.

"Don't be. You got nothing to be sorry for." His voice was like tires on gravel, and for the life of her she could not understand why she liked it so much. Those icy blue eyes met hers, serious, pained, and definetly sober. He was actually handsome, attractive to look at... but of course she noticed that when she first saw him. But the fancy gelled hairstyle didn't suit him at all. She liked the skull cap he wore much better, and he was even starting to grow a little soulpatch on his chin.

"Thanks, Marcus," She sighed, walking over to the door. "I've got everything I'll need, but just for one last time, I think I'm going to sleep here tonight."

He caught her drift and followed her over. It was time for him to go, past midnight probably. She had cried a long time, and it was time to move on. He managed to grumble something to the effect of "sleep tight" as he looked at her again past the open door, when she gave him a peck on the cheek.

She'd never forget the way he blushed, either.


	3. Chapter 3

The Raven landed just south of the COG's new base, on the beach. That was the only place they could actually _see_ was clear of locust.

"Take care of the bird, Goins. We may need it for medevac." Marcus grunted over the tac-com as he and Dom leaped clear of the giant helicopter.

"Wilco, Sergeant Fenix." Goins replied, and they watched as the Raven circled around to disappear behind the mountains. Damn. All that noise probably alerted every piece of locust shit in the area.

As if on cue, there was movement in the bushes behind them. They both whirled around, Lancers drawn and ready.

"Wretch?" Dom asked.

"Maybe," Marcus said, keeping his eyes open. This was going to be a very long walk.

The smoldering hulk that was the former COG headquarters loomed in the background, only slightly above the trees. And you could only tell becasue it was blown-the-fuck-up. Marcus analyzed the massive damage as they traversed the short trail from the beach to the compound, and estimated the locust bastards must have dropped at least twenty mortars on this place. Everything had been blown apart, ceiling to floor. The only spots still intact, he assumed, were those that were recessed into the mountainside. The bedrock made the mortars that much harder to get in.

Rounding a bush, they were slapped in the face by the sheer swath of destruction.

"Holy shit." Dom breathed.

Marcus had been wrong. It wasn't just blown-the-fuck-up. It was mutilated into the ground and stomped a few times for good measure, like a bad bar fight where you couldn't tell if the guy was dead or not because you were so drunk but you kept punching him anyway. It couldn't have just been mortars that did that, there had to be something bigger, something more powerful.

"That wasn't just mortars," Dom said, reiterating his best friend's thoughts. "Shit, Marcus."

"I know. But where are the fucking Locust?"

And Marcus was right. As they plodded up to the compound in their heavy armor, there were simply no Locust. At all. No grubs, no wretches, none_ at all_. It was one of the weirdest fucking things Marcus had ever seen.

"Maybe they got what they were looking for," Dom suggested warily. "And left."

"Fat chance." Marcus growled, and continued into the dilapidated building. The sun was setting fast, and they needed to find some place to hole up in and light a fire. Fire was life or death out here-- you didn't light a fire, you didn't see locust coming to strangle you in your sleep.

Cautiously they entered the wreckage, the smell of burnt flesh immediately singeing their nostrils. The whole place was a graveyard. Everything was coated in a fine layer of human blood, which smelled decidedly different than locust blood. The first body they found was to the left, fragmented, skull blown open post-humous. The next one was intact, but skull also blown open, post-humous. So the locust were _making sure _everyone was dead.

"Fuck." Marcus hissed under his breath as they found more and more that way. Anya had to have gotten out in time.

As they ventured further into the destroyed compound, they found that more people had just been shot up, or littered with shrapnel. If anything, they were all the same-- stone cold dead. And Dom was getting worried.

He knew how bad Carlos's death hurt Marcus, hell, he had felt it the same. They were all Santiagos and Carlos's death was no easier on Dom than on Marcus. But the guy just had a straight up, thirty second mental breakdown before bottling it all up again. Dom had lost plenty of loved ones to the damned war, but that was part of the problem. He actually _had_ family to begin with. Marcus's parents had always been very distant with their son, very businessy and cold, and Carlos was the first piece of actual family the Marcus had built around himself, to cover up his insecurities and aching heart. Dom was a quick next addition, an easy guess.

But that wasn't what Dom was getting at. Marcus had more to lose because he had none to begin with. He physically constructed those bonds with people he liked, and it took him quite a bit of effort to like someone, so when he said he was friends, that meant _till the end, motherfucker. _And after Carlos died, there was this gaping hole.

Guess who filled that hole, if only a little bit, because Marcus would never forget Carlos: Major Stroud's little girl, Anya. She was everything Marcus was; lonely, undervalued, and smart as hell. Dom remembered watching them, it was almost natural how they took to each other, no matter how completely and totally against regulation it was. And regulations didn't really matter that much anymore.

So Dom was worried. Worried about what Marcus would do when he found Anya dead. Dom himself would be sad, he might shed a tear or two, she was an awesome chick, really. But death had conditioned him. He was used to it. Marcus... well, he was a whole different story. It would just be another crumbling wall in his already shaky facade. and with Dom as the only wall left, he didn't know how well his best friend would hold up.

Seriously, Dom swore Marcus had memorized the place. Before he knew it, they were standing in front of the remnants of Anya's desk.

Marcus stepped slowly around the bullet- and shrapnel-riddled screen to find that beautiful blond slumped on the floor next to her chair. Dom was right behind him, and heard that funny sound his throat made when he saw the extent of the blood.

It started on the desk, trailed down around the chair, and pooled in a thick puddle beneath her limp, lifeless body. Marcus didn't breathe. He remembered telling her once, that he would never die on her watch, but she had never promised the same for him.

He hadn't thought it _necessary_.

Dom saw his face as he shouldered his lance, and bent down to pick her up, check for a pulse, something. It was that same, hollow, emotionless exterior that all Fenixes were capable of, but there was a twitch in his jaw and tremors in his hands. Marcus was scared shitless to find out the truth.

Those mad-dog eyes didn't miss the multiple bullet wounds in her abdomen and legs, or the large blunt-force wound on her head, matting her pretty blonde hair with blood. He squatted down and cradled her, placing her head nuzzled into his neck, like she had so long ago on that night; the first night Marcus felt that unnerving drive to shoot himself in the head every time he thought about her... The night they fell in love.

Dom had to turn away, walk away. It was pitiful to watch, this man so torn into pieces by the rest of his life, locust or not, and he can't even have to woman he loves. Dom had Maria, he would always have Maria, they were married, they had children. It was permanent.

But _everything_ with Marcus was shaky, even between the two of them.

Dom took a fleeting look and saw him check for a pulse, and hoped to _god_ it wouldn't be the end of the world.


	4. Chapter 4

She was eighteen, she was invincible.

But was she still? There was more, after that. More she remembered about that corporal that stole her heart, despite all her qualms about fraternizing.

After he comforted her that night, they had a better understanding of each other. Maybe they weren't stationed together, but she would always hear of his incredible achievements for the rest of the Pendulum Wars. They even met up once at the end of the war, all three of them-- She, Marcus, and Dom. They went to a shitty bar, which was more their style than that hotel banquet that happened so long ago.

And then there was E-Day, and she was back on the job. It was never-ending. Again she and Marcus were separated, again she only had eyes for him, no matter how many other officers practically threw themselves at her. She'd won a fair share of sexual harassment suits by the time she was twenty-five.

She still followed Marcus's career closely, though. How old was she now? Hell, it didn't matter. He was just as old, and she read a short article about a trial, persecuting him.

_What? _

He was being tried for dereliction of duty. For leaving his troops, disobeying direct orders, and going to save his father. _Shit_, she thought, _his father_. Marcus had plenty of reason of course, the man was his father and as much as he hated to admit it, Marcus did love his dad. Deep down, all he wanted was approval. Which he never got, apparently, according to the article. His father died before Marcus could save him.

She felt a twang of guilt, reading this. Marcus kept himself up by the people he cared about, they were like crutches to him, and on that strength he managed to rise up and fight as well as he did. But he was crumbling fast, anyone could see that-- with Carlos gone, he was a lot more reckless, even though Dom was still alive. Knocking his father out of the picture just added another knot in Marcus's ever-tightening noose.

Later she read a follow-up article, discussing how Hoffman's testimony placed him in the Slab. That nasty, maximum security prison in Ephyra, usually only used for POW's, and he got _forty years_. It had to be total bullshit, it had to be! Marcus did some stupid stuff every now and then, but he never screwed up enough to be thrown in a prison like that for forty years.

Four years later was the first time she had seen him in nearly a decade. Jumping out of Hoffman's chopper was stupid, especially in a hot LZ, but she had to see for herself.

They had shared a long glance, Her eyes lingered on his new scar, the one that now dominated his facial features, more than they were locked on his eyes. She was sure he noticed how much she had grown up, too. The look on his face was unmistakable-- he felt ashamed, dirty to be looking at her, which was far from what Anya thought. The scar made him look older, which he was anyway, but he was still handsome and attractive as ever.

Maybe, since he was fresh out of prison, she would cut him a break.

Then Hoffman let her follow them. It wasn't long before Delta was the priority, before she was the only communicator they would have, before Marcus kissed her on that balcony. And then those feelings that she had locked up and away for what seemed like centuries just poured out of her, she found herself staring at him through JACK's visual feed, chatting to him late nights about nothing on a private channel, using his first name over the com lines. He even gave her a wink every now and then, when he wasn't concerned about chopping locusts in half.

Then there was that night that she sort-of blocked out of her mind, she wasn't even sure it was real. That one day, where Delta squad got the day off, and came back to COG headquarters for a good, square meal and some rest. She just kept thinking that night was a dream, so she could live with herself the next day.

Not like she regretted it, no, no way. She just would drool over him if she thought about it, and being distracted wasn't a top priority in her line of work, especially when the one she was protecting was the one she would dbe drooling over.

But where was she now? Six months following her last physical contact with Marcus, Locusts mortared the COG base of operations.

Oh yeah.

She was dead.

If this was what death felt like, then maybe it was alright. She would just lay here in the dark, in the quiet. Hell, It gave her plenty of time to think about Marcus and what they could have been, had Sera found peace after the Pendulum Wars. Maybe dating steady, maybe he would wrap her in his arms every night, and stroke her hair and kiss her and tell her how much he loved her. Show his soft side for once. But no, that wasn't Marcus; he would growl out all his hate before the word "love" came into his vocabulary.

But why... why did she feel like he was really hugging her? Damn, she swore she could smell him, locust stench and all, not more than five inches away. And she thought she had slumped over on her side when that asshole locust's rifle hit her head, instead she was curled up in a ball, and it was _warm_.

Was she in hell?

Desperately, she tried to open her eyes. She could feel her body, she could feel Marcus's arms, she could feel heat from... was that a fire?... on her left side, and finally she managed to lift her heavy lids.

She winced slightly at the brightness of the fire and the acuteness of the stench, but it was clearly nighttime. Marcus held her, cradled like a precious package, his head hunched over, sleeping. He had fallen asleep protecting her, like a child and it's safety blanket. Her nose was in his neck, and she smelt his skin. It was sweaty, and there was a slight smattering of locust blood, but the smell beneath that was so _him_ that she didn't give a damn if she died right now.

Anya guessed that maybe her movements had made him instinctively grasp her tighter, but no, with that one small action she had actually woken him up.

He had never been much of a sleeper anyway.


	5. Chapter 5

"Morning sunshine," He grumbled, and she felt the vibrations through his neck. It almost made her squeal like a little schoolgirl, this was the part she loved the most, being right up next to him. Being _safe_.

"You feelin alright?" He growled again, his icy blue eyes peering at her as best he could. He was drowsy, this was probably the first time that either he or Dom, who was sawing logs on the other side of the fire, got to sleep in a good three or four days, if at all in the past week. It amazed her how they could keep going... she did it with coffee, they just had to or die.

"Mhm," She replied, nodding. Her voice was hoarse, from who-knew what, and she could feel bandages around her torso, and one or two around her temples. But apparently, nothing serious had gone wrong. Marcus shifted her around so that he could look at her without craning his neck at such a funny angle.

"Good," was all he said, and looked from her back into the fire, where she guessed he must have been staring before he fell asleep. From the way his brow knit, she guessed he was thinking hard about something. Did he even know she was looking at him anymore?

Illuminated in the firelight, he looked less human than ever. It really showed his age-- the wrinkles that criss-crossed his face, the deep bags under his eyes from lack of sleep, the cautious way he moved, like he was always in pain. Now that she thought about it, she must have looked the same to him; she was pretty much the same age and had gone through most of the same ordeals, albeit from a different vantage point. They were both survivors, both a little worse for the wear.

She was okay with that.

She turned into his armor-- hell it didn't matter if it was hard, as long as it was attached to him, she was okay with it. She nuzzled her head into the soft fabric underneath, the padding on his arm, and he moved to accommodate her. She got the feeling that he liked holding her here a lot more than he let on, and a hell of a lot more than he would ever tell her. It was the little moments like these, she thought, that helped him heal the most.

"Anya," He said, suddenly, quietly, but enough to snap her out of her dozing.

"Hm?"

"You talk about me in your sleep." He said it quickly, like he wanted to get it off his chest, like he was afraid of what she would say. It was a step in the right direction for Marcus.

But what he said was unnerving. She talked about him? In her sleep?

"What did I say?" She asked quietly, dreading the answer. She probably said something stupid and schoolgirl-y, even though she knew Marcus wouldn't care.

"You don't want to know." He grunted, still staring at the fire._ Hell, how bad was it?_

"Hell Marcus, how bad was it?"

She was sorry she asked. His face darkened, and he said every word like he was talking about a locust or something.

"You said, _'Marcus, I love you.' _Among other things." He spat, and to her it felt like a slap in the face. She didn't quite understand his sadistic side.

Anya turned her face away, not saying a word.

"Do you know how bad that is? Jail, Anya. For a while. For both of us." He was speaking at barely a whisper now.

She didn't budge. He couldn't see her face, but he had struck a nerve. She felt her chest heave slightly, her eyes sting with wetness.

"Awh, hell, Anya..."

And she was by herself again. He stood up and stormed off, and for the first time she realized where she was-- the ruined base. Faces of her dead comrades stuck out all around her, and he wasn't here to protect her. He had given up on her.

She drew her knees up to her face, wrapping her arms around them, scooting closer to the fire and trying to keep warm. Little sobs wracked themselves out of her, whether it be the dead, soulless faces staring at her from the dark, or the torture that Marcus was putting her through, because all he could do was run away.

He deserted. _Again_.


	6. Chapter 6

_krunch krunch krunch krunch_...

Marcus listened to his boots as he trekked over the soft earth. He stood on a small hill, overlooking the bay of Jacinto, maybe a few hundred yards outside the destroyed COG base. A faint glow in the horizon let him know that morning was approaching, and that he had survived another sleepless night.

He sat down, placing his lancer across his knees, and beginning the tedious task of cleaning the damn thing. It helped him relax, however morbid that may seem, as he picked little fragments of locust skulls and guts out of the chainsaw bayonet. He refused to let his mind stray back to the cute little blonde he had been holding in his arms a few minutes ago, instead of this hard metal weapon. She was distracting. He needed to stay alive, for the COG, he needed to keep his mind on the war.

He had almost snapped when they found her, slumped over, in a pool of her own blood. He hadn't even had a chance to say goodbye...

Marcus swallowed, that thought dredging up a long-ignored hurt that stretched back into his early childhood.

As he picked what looked like a piece of intestine out of the gears of his gun, he remebered the bulletholes. The ones in her side that leaked more blood every second. He remebered how pale she was, that his hands wouldn't stop shaking as he checked for a pulse. At first, when he found it, he thought maybe it was his imagination, maybe he was making it up so he wouldn't have to deal with her death. The knife was already cutting deep into his chest, and to have his breath catch like it did was hope he could not afford if it wasn't real.

But it was. Dom walked over and affirmed his discovery, but the pulse was extremely weak. Immediately they began pulling out all the bullets and patching the girl up, but he _couldn't let her go. _He was unable to let her out of his hands, she was too fragile, too delicate to place back on the ground. However much his hands were shaking, however much it horrified him, those meat hooks were locked tight around her slender frame.

The last time he had been that close to her... he didn't want to think about it.

They cut up some trees from around the compound and lit a fire, staying under and overhanging piece of twisted sheet metal for shelter. That had been when she started talking.

It was like she was right there, talking to him, and at first, he thought she was awake.

_"Marcus," She whispered, shifting slightly in his arms, as he sat next to the fire._

_"Hmm?" He replied softly, trying not to jostle her. He saw her eyes were still closed. _

_"Marcus, I love you." She said it so plain, so out in the open. He checked to make sure Dom was asleep. Her eyebrows knit like she was thinking hard about something._

_"Get the kids in the car, they're gonna be late for school," She mumbled._

_He turned to stare into the fire to keep himself in control._

It was then he knew all of this had gone way too far. Part of him wanted to leap for joy, just run around screaming because she felt that way about him and she said it, but that was a very, very small part. The rest of him couldn't stop thinking about why the hell he'd even bothered to pay attention to her in the first place. Where did he think it would go? If she kept up with that, someone might hear, and they would be charged for fraternizing and get thrown in jail. She couldn't go to prison, she was much to important. She alone could help the COG win this war. They weren't going to lose just because of him.

So he removed himself; just sat there on that hill and cleaned his lancer as the sun rose, not sure if he could ever look her in the face again.


	7. Chapter 7

Dom's eyes snapped open.

It was daylight now, morning. Sitting up, he stretched, cracking his battle-worn bones and several places. He had dreamt about Maria again, and every passing day, he missed her more and more. He thought about his children, too, Benedicto and Sylvia. He would never forget them, and when his time came, he would meet them all in heaven.

But until then, he had to keep fighting.

He rubbed his face to wake himself up, and stood, seeing that the fire was dwindling from the night before. Past that, Anya was lying on the ground, curled up in a little ball. He remembered how Marcus had held on to her the night before, like she would die if he let go, which in all actuality, she probably would have. But where was he now?

Drowsily, he walked over to the sleeping girl. There was a little blood under the bandages, he made a mental note to check them later, but for now she would be okay. The regenerant they used should have healed them drastically, but she'd bee feeling pain for a few days until it was completely healed.

He squatted down and shook her gently, hoping she would wake up.

"Anya, wake up." He said, grasping her shoulder firmly.

She rolled over slightly, eyes blinking open, and finally focusing on Dom. That was always the strangest thing about Anya-- her eyes. She was blonde, but her eyes were a dark brown, almost black color. It was funny, like she and Marcus had traded eyes.

"Hmm?" She said, sitting up, yawning, stretching her arms.

"Dude, where's Marcus?"

She frowned and looked away from him for a second. Something had gone down while he was asleep.

"He went that way." She said, her head nodding in the general direction to Dom's left.

"Thanks." He replied, standing up and starting in that direction. "You gonna be okay here by yourself?" He asked, a bit concerned that there might be locust around, even though they hadn't seen any in a good twenty four hours. But if there was one thing he learned from this war, it was that you could never bet on those bastards.

"Yeah." She said, smiling a half-hearted smile. "I'll be fine."

So he trotted over in the direction she had gestured, and hoped Marcus hadn't gone too far. To Dom's relief, he hadn't, he saw Marcus's huge shoulders sitting on a hill maybe a few hundred yards from the edge of the compound, motionless. Was he sleeping?

He walked up quietly, trying not to wake him if, in fact, he was. He knew Marcus only ever slept for ten minutes at the maximum, the guy had such a problem with nightmares that he just stayed awake.

As he walked around his side, Dom saw that his eyes were open. No, he wasn't asleep, he was thinking, lost in the recesses of his mind. More and more, Marcus was getting like that, and Dom wasn't sure if it was for the best.

"Hey," he said, alerting Marcus to his presence. Marcus blinked once, and turned to look at Dom as the latino sat down next to him.

"Hey," He grunted back. they sat for a moment, in silence, looking at the sun's reflection on the water. For one, the scenery here was beautiful, and Dom never wanted to lose it to those damn fucking locust. He heard Marcus place his lancer at his side, and decided to acknowledge the 200-lb elephant in the room.

"What's up with you and Anya," He asked, knowing it was probably shaky ground. Everything was with this guy, but there had to be no secrets. Dom was the only real family he had left.

"Hmph. Nothing." He grunted, clearly avoiding the subject.

"Come on, Marcus, don't bullshit me man."

Marcus took a deep breath, and massaged his forehead with one hand before continuing.

"She talks in her sleep. About us." Obviously, he wasn't pleased.

"Us, me and you us, or us, you and her us?" Dom asked, clarifying.

"Me and her, us."

"So?" Dom shrugged his shoulders, he didn't get why that was such a bad thing. Wasn't Marcus like, head over heels for this girl?

"She talked about kids. She said she_ loved me_." He said it like it was a bad thing.

"Cant she not have kids anyway? What's the big deal?"

"Dom."He said, turning and fixing his best friend with an unnerving stare from his icy blue eyes. "If the right people hear that, they'll bring her up on charges. We both could get thrown in jail. She's not going to jail just because of me."

"Shit." This was worse than Dom thought. "What the fuck has gotten into you, dude?"

Marcus blinked a little, giving away his surprise, waiting for Dom to continue.

"Seriously man, if she loves you then good for her, at least she deals with it. You just close it all up on the inside, like you do with everything. Look, do you think anyone gives a fuck about regulations anymore? Since when did you care about what everybody else thinks?" Dom had struck a nerve, he could tell. Marcus had looked away from him and back over the bay, his jaw clenched.

"I'm just saying, if you love her, then just fucking _tell her_. Its the least you can do for her, man, instead of tearing her up when you feel like being five again."

Dom's last statement hurt, Marcus closed his eyes and set his jaw after Dom said it, but at least he'd made his point. Before Marcus decided to punch him, he got up and walked away, back into the base to check on Anya.

Marcus sat there for a long time.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8, and still going strong!

Please keep reviewing guys, it lets me know people are reading. :D

--Meggie

* * *

"Copy, sir. Delta out."

Dom saw Anya standing in front of JACK as it closed up it's view screen and re-cloaked. She saw him, and smiled as he trotted up to her.

"Who was that?" He asked, hoping for good news.

"Colonel Hoffman. Apparently he and the Chairman among some other personnel survived the bombing, and have a temporary base set up about twenty klicks north of here."

"Are they sending a Raven or something?" He asked, hopeful for some rest.

"No, all of them are occupied at the moment." She bit her lip, knowing the news would disappoint. "We'll have to walk."

"Shit." He said, rubbing a nervous hand through his hair. That was a long fucking way to walk.

He sighed, his hand moving from his head to the back of his neck. Looking at Anya, he saw how bloody her bandages were. Apparently the regenerant didn't work as well as he thought. He grabbed a singed office chair next to him, and wheeled it around in her direction.

"What?" She asked, curious.

"Sit down, I want to take a look at those wounds." He said, pulling the tube of regenerant and a roll of gauze and medical tape out of a few different compartments in his armor.

"Okay," She said, and sat down.

"Don't worry, I won't peek at anything," He said, smirking as he kneeled next to her and lifted up her shirt to take a look at the bullet wouds in her torso.

She laughed. "I won't." She paused for a moment while he peeled the first two off. "Thanks, Dom."

"No problem, squirt." He said, making her smile again. Dom was always such a good friend to her, and knew exactly what to say to make her feel good. She could see what Maria saw in him, he was truly a good person.

"Ow," She winced as he applied the medicine. It stung, quite a bit, but she could take it.

"Sorry," He said, as he ripped some tape with his hand, fixing the gauze on top of the wounds. "There, finished. Now let me check the one on your head."

He stood up and leaned over her, attempting to peel off the larger bandage on her left temple, but her hair kept getting caught, and he didn't want to rip half of it out.

"Take out your hair," He told her, and she did.

Trying again, he found it a lot easier, because he could just push the hair out of the way. Underneath the dressing, the bruising was extensive, a deep purple mixed with blue. The cut itself was healed pretty well, though, so he figured he didn't have to put a new one on. Let it get some oxygen.

"You're good there," He told her, and backed up, taking another look. "Yep, done."

"Thanks again," She said, standing up, pushing the chair back to where it had been. Not that it mattered, she just wanted to.

"Any--" Dom started to say, but they both froze when a loud _zing! _came from his armor. He stumbled from the force of the bullet, and whirled around to look behind him.

"Shit. Drones!" He yelled, hopefully loud enough that Marcus would hear it. "Anya, get down!" He said, giving her a full on body slam and dragging them both behind a desk. The spot where they had just been erupted in gunfire.

"Fuck!" Dom yelled, snagging his lancer and loading it up with a fresh clip like clockwork, leaning over the top of the desk and using almost the whole thing, only taking down about three hostiles. Anya knew there was no way Dom could take them all out himself, she needed to help any way she could. There was a Boltok pistol lying there behind an adjacent desk, and glancing around the edge of the one she was sitting behind, she realized getting to the Boltok would put her in harm's way.

Still, if she got to it, there was at least a chance of them surviving.

She peered around the corner, counting how many drones would have a clear shot at her. Ten, at least... but she would be exposed for only a second or so, so she went for it, just as Dom finished emptying a clip.

"Anya, what the hell are you doing?" He shouted at her, horrified, as she sprinted the short distance, finally sliding into position behind the second desk. She hadn't been shot, thank god, and she grabbed the pistol and waved it at Dom. He frowned, but nodded at her to keep going as he stood up to fire off another salvo at the Locust bastards.

She checked the clip, finding only two bullets missing. That would give her plenty of shots, and plenty of dead Locust. Even though she hadn't brushed up on her target practice in years, the adrenaline rushing through her system told her otherwise.

Cocking the pistol, she crouched, barely exposing herself over the desk. Immediately some of the drones noticed her, turning their weapons in her direction. She took careful aim, and pressed the trigger, ducking as Hammerburst fire flew over her head. That had been close.

"Nice shot!" She heard Dom yell, and she figured she must have killed it. Good.

Again she cocked the pistol, and sat up to take out another. She had never felt so exhilarated in her life.

"Get down," Marcus growled next to her, suddenly yanking her so she fell back on to her ass.

"Hey!' She yelled in retaliation, sitting back up, pistol still in her hand. He overpowered her easily, shoving her on to her back and wrenching the pistol from her hands.

"I said, get the fuck _down_. Or I will _make _you." He threatened, tossing her pistol aside.

She sat up and leaned with her back to the desk, folding her arms and looking away from him.

"About time you showed up," She spat, unhappy with his interference. He didn't reply, simply kept firing in short bursts at the drones on the other side. His face was flat, his jaw set, his eyes calculating and cold. She heard the_ splat _of a head exploding, and saw him sneer.

There was a reason she never wanted to see him in a firefight.


	9. Chapter 9

_Rat-ta-tat-tat-tat_

"Frag out!" _Ra-ta-tat-- _**BOOM**.

"Shit!"

_Bang bang bang bang!_

As she sat there, banned from taking any action whatsoever by the hulk of metal beside her, Anya resolved to close her eyes and cover her ears. For one, gods sake, it was so _loud_. She didn't know how either Dom or Marcus stood the constant barrage of all that noise; when she heard it through the com lines it didn't seem quite so bad. Not only that, but the muzzle flashes really got to her eyes, like a strobe light or a bad camera flash that left the halo in your eyes after you looked away. Maybe it was a stupid idea, but she couldn't do anything anyway.

Her hands did a good enough job muffling the noises, but she managed to peek when she heard an aggravated yell from Marcus. She opened an eye just enough to see him stand up briefly and rev up the chainsaw bayonet, leaning into an attacking drone and pretty much scooping out its entrails. Warm flecks of blood and who knew what landed on her face. She made sure to keep her mouth closed.

After the mutilated Locust drone slumped over and stopped twitching -- Marcus fired a few rounds into its skull to ensure that -- he reloaded and leaned on the butt of the rifle. Anya uncovered her ears, wiping bits of locust flesh from around her mouth and wiping it on the hem of her tattered uniform.

"Is that it?" She asked, hoping he would say yes.

"I think so." He grumbled. "Dom, whatcha got?"

"Dead grubs." Came the frank reply, and Anya let out a sigh of relief.

Marcus walked around to the front of the desk to pick up ammunition or whatever other supplies the locust had been carrying. To her left, Anya heard an ominous _tick tick tick_...

Turning, she saw what appeared to be an ugly, naked, over-sized rodent, with enormous incisors that looked able to chop bones in half standing no more than a foot from her face. The ticking sound was made by its limbs, which were thin and knobbly but incredibly sharp, like witch hands, and small, beady black eyes looked upon her with what she assumed was glee, right before it let out a high-pitched squeal.

_Skreeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!_

Spreading its limbs caused the release of a valve of whatever it carried on top of its body, and she knew from experience what was about to happen.

"NO!" She heard Marcus bellow behind her, and as she scrambled backwards on her ass, stuck like a deer in headlights, he leaped over the desk and put himself between her and the Ticker. He grasped her tight in his strong arms as the living locust mine exploded, the concussive force of the blast moving them a foot and flooring Marcus flat on top of her.

At first, she thought maybe the blast had killed him, as he crouched on top of her for a moment, unmoving. Then she heard his raspy breathing and felt his weight shift off of her as he propped himself up on his elbows to look at her. Something sticky dripped down the side of his face, more blood by the smell of it, but she didn't care. While his face was calm, his eyes were frantic, searching her face for any sign of damage.

"You alright?" He said quietly, calmly

She nodded, shaken but unharmed. He looked at her for a moment longer, and it seemed that they both realized at the same time just how close they were to each other. She thought maybe, just for a moment, Marcus may have leaned in slightly, but nothing came of it.

"What the fuck was that?" Dom yelled, crossing from the other side of the base. He had moved to a fallen concrete pillar to flank them more effectively.

"Shit, Anya..." Marcus said under his breath, and got to his feet, helping her on to hers before Dom was able to see their awkward position.

"Ticker. Snuck right up on her," Marcus said, still out of breath from the blow.

"Shit." Dom said, stopping right in front of the pair. "You okay Anya?"

"Yeah, thanks Dom." She smiled at him, and Marcus shifted awkwardly next to her.

"So Marcus, Anya got a call from Hoffman." Dom started, filling his sergeant in.

"What'd he say."

It was Anya's turn, reciting the same bit of information she told Dom before all hell broke loose. "Well, apparently he and the Chairman including some other personnel managed to escape the bombing on a Raven or two. They set up a temporary base about twenty klicks north of here..."

"Let me guess," Marcus said, in his normal monotone. "No Raven."

"...No, sorry Marcus. We have to walk."

He let out a deep sigh.

Dom yawned, slightly bored from the combination of adrenaline and sudden lack of something to shoot.

"Well, let's get this over with," He said, and began trotting towards the north end of the destroyed building, where there was a vague vehicle path that should lead them to where they wanted to go. The sun was getting pretty high in the sky, so it was prime time to be on the move.

Anya started to put up her hair-- it was bothering her, when it was down it reached a little past her shoulders, and the ends always tickled the back of her neck and the sides of her face. As she gathered it all up in a bunch to put it in a tight bun, Marcus pulled her hands away.

"Don't." He said, meeting her dark eyes. "I like it better that way."

He let go and continued walking, trotting to catch up with Dom. She followed, attempting to cover her blushing cheeks.


	10. Chapter 10

Reviews are love!

--Meggie

* * *

And so it was officially established between the three of them that walking was one of _the_ most boring activities ever invented.

They covered about six or seven klicks an hour, and that was _with_ all the extensive equipment that Marcus and Dom carried. Without, the two gears could probably make ten or twelve klicks an hour, making the trip a much easier trek, but Anya wasn't quite as conditioned as the two full-time soldiers, and walking long distances in the COG regulation pumps wasn't exactly her forte. So they reached the base in about three hours of strenuous walking, in the hottest part of the day.

As Dom crested the grassy hill littered with knobbly trees and branches, he spotted a small settlement no more than a few hundred yards below him. Maybe forty or fifty small, gray tents, probably made of a polyester canvas from the way they reflected the afternoon sun, were surrounded by a low, rolling wall, clearly man-made. In the middle of all the tents stood a single larger one, able to fit those tents surrounding it and probably more inside, but Dom didn't pay attention to that. What he saw was the large Death's Head emblem marked on the side of it.

"God, _fi_-nally." He breathed, sweat dripping from his nose as he leaned over, resting his hands on his knees. "Hey guys, we're here," He hollered, turning around to Marcus, still trekking through the scrub land edge behind him. In his arms was Anya, she almost passed out earlier from the heat, and Marcus refused to let her walk the rest of the way. So he ended up carrying her.

Grunting the last few steps up the hill, he stopped right next to Dom, also breathing heavy and using an arm to wipe the sweat from his forehead. His skull cap was absolutely _soaked_.

"Sweet." He said nonchalantly. "I need a fuckin shower."

Anya, her face beet red and sweating just as much as Dom and Marcus, turned her head around from Marcus's chestplate to see the base, and smiled. Dom was actually surprised she had made it this whole way without complaining once. He knew girls that were tough, real tough, but even Bernadette Mataki would have complained his ear off about the heat. Even when Marcus pretty much told her that he was going to carry her the rest of the way, she at least acted like she wanted to keep walking, but gave in graciously without making much of a scene. There wasn't much arguing with Marcus.

But they had made it, which, in Dom's mind at least, was a fucking _miracle_.

He barely remembered walking the last few yards to the base. Before he knew it, he was in the shower, just standing under the stream as cold water rushed over his flushed skin. It was like heaven from a spigot, which, at that moment, was all he could have asked for.

Marcus's entry was slightly more complicated. Instead of sprinting to the showers like Dom, in his first five steps into the base, he ran smack dab into Colonel Hoffman.

"Sergeant Fenix!" The Colonel shouted, calling Marcus over to his position in front of the Command Center, the big tent in the middle. Marcus immediately scoffed, rolling his eyes, but complied, trotting over to the Colonel with Anya still in his arms. He could hear the question exiting the head asshole's mouth before he even said it.

"Fenix! Why the hell are you carrying Lieutenant Stroud?"

The Colonel may have been an asshole, but he wasn't stupid. He knew these two... well, Anya at least. She had shown favoritism to Delta ever since he assigned her to them, especially Marcus. While exploring the New Hope facility, he didn't miss the frustration in the soldier's voice when Command, him namely, had taken over contact with Delta for the time being. Admittedly, Fenix was always disgruntled talking to him, but he gave the Colonel extra shit when he found out it wasn't Anya on the com line.

Now, from his current vantage point, Hoffman didn't miss the intimate way that Fenix held his favorite Control Commander, the way it was more cradling than carrying. If he had in fact, been_ carrying _her, it would have been in a fireman's carry or something similar. No, her face was up against his neckline, turned inwards like she was sleeping. And Fenix himself didn't look in any way irritated from the fact that he was carrying her, in all actuality, the constantly tense soldier looked somewhat relaxed.

Hoffman felt himself raise an eyebrow as Anya shifted herself to face him.

"It was hot, sir," He said calmly, noticing the eyebrow but not really caring. "She almost fainted. I figured one more thing to carry wouldn't be an issue."

He set her down gently, making sure her feet were firmly planted on the ground before he let go. Hoffman saw her give him a stern look for him to leave her alone, and so he did, and to himself the Colonel mused that that was the first time he'd seen Fenix actually listen to any one person. The lieutenant then straightened her tattered skirt and pulled back her tangled hair into her normal tight bun, saluting him as best she could.

"Colonel," she said, shaky, but alright for the moment.

"At ease, Lieutenant." Hoffman replied, eying the decrepit state of her whole self. Her uniform was pretty much ruined, shredded in several places and stained with blood and who knew what else. He didn't miss the large, fading bruise on her forehead, or the conspicuous bullet-shaped holes on her left side, with gauze showing through underneath. This woman was a trooper.

"Come with me," He said to her, gesturing towards the Command Center. She walked briskly in the direction indicated, while Hoffman continued to give Marcus a skeptical look.

"I'm watching you, Fenix." He said, low and somewhat threatening voice, turning around to follow Anya.

Marcus just smirked.


End file.
